


On Headaches and Hang-Overs

by misura



Category: Coldfire Trilogy - C. S. Friedman
Genre: Hangover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-16
Updated: 2005-05-16
Packaged: 2017-11-04 15:54:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karril does someone a favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Headaches and Hang-Overs

As a rule, Karril spent little time around humans suffering from hang-overs. When they were in the process of getting them, he might drop by for a while, to make sure that the next morning would be worth it, so to speak, but only if the human in question was, in fact, drinking for fun.

Which seemed, Karril had been chagrined to discover, to be the case less and less often. A lot of humans started off miserable, got themselves drunk enough to fall asleep, and woke up again just as miserable as before, with a headache and an unsteady stomach to boot.

(Certain people might claim that Karril's worshippers were much the same, but that merely proved how limited their understanding of his nature was. Or, as some of his acquaintances might claim, how limited humans were, period.)

He hoped that the person who was his reason for being in this less-than-decent (in the sense of cleanliness, rather than morals) establishment had enjoyed himself the night before. Then, somewhat sourly, he wondered why he cared, why he'd agreed to act as some sort of mother-hen to a human who was sure not to appreciate his doing so one bit.

Watching the sunlight slowly making its way over the floor, to the bed -if one could call it that- he decided that perhaps he'd become too human, to pretend ignorance of his motivations when he knew them very well.

Karril was here because he'd been asked to. Because he'd been requested to be here, to stand watch, by someone who rarely made any requests, and more rarely still asked anything for other people. To another person, Karril supposed, he might also claim he was here because the Hunter was, as far as humans went, a good person to put in one's debt, yet to himself he admitted that it had mainly been the fact of the request itself that had brought him here.

That, and a decidedly human emotion named 'curiosity'.

(Once again, he might claim to be interested merely in converting, in convincing the human in question that the god he prayed to was little good. Once again though, it would be untrue.)

Briefly, he toyed with the idea of waking the priest, but he decided with some regret that it would probably reduce his chances of getting any answers to a point well below zero. Karril sighed, feeling impatient (another human emotion) and slightly annoyed with himself for doing so.

Another fifteen minutes passed before the sunlight had reached the point where it shone directly into the human's face. Typically, this also was the moment when the priest began to display some signs of being about to wake up, mumbling a name that might have been 'Gerald', or not. 

Karril weighed the option of not doing anything and having the sunlight worsen the priest's headache by an unknown factor against making himself the first thing the priest would see after a sleep that might or might not have been restful. Neither was likely to improve the human's mood.

However, any kind of action was preferable to no action at all.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

For a few moments, Karril was tempted to reply by making an inquiry if perhaps the priest had expected to see someone else, someone who'd have been reduced to a smoldering corpse by now, had he been standing in Karril's place, and oh, since they were discussing the Hunter anyway, might the priest perhaps be able to tell him what had transpired between him and 'Gerald' last night?

Instead, he settled for a slightly more diplomatical: "I might ask you the same," which was absolutely true, and also nicely focused the conversation on what he wanted to know.

"I'd say that was pretty obvious." Karril considered for a second if that was an evasion, before deciding that no, this was simply a case of morning temper, combined with a hang-over and a normally none-too-sunny disposition.

"A mutual acquaintance has asked me to keep an eye on you," Karril offered up, in the vain hope that if he'd simply keep acting pleasant and open, the priest might start doing the same. "This part of town isn't quite known for its safety, after all, and he appeared to be somewhat worried that you might meet with an unfortunate accident."

The priest didn't snort and proclaim the idea that the Hunter might be concerned for him rubbish. That might be significant, although Karril had to admit that the lack of reaction to his words might also be due to the priest simply being stunned by the suggestion. 

"Nice of him," the priest muttered, turning away from Karril to search for his clothes that appeared to have ended up in various corners of the room, for some reason. Karril detected a hint of sarcasm in the priest's words, though he wasn't quite sure about its meaning.

"He'll owe me quite the favor for this," Karril commented idly. There were some risks in reminding the priest of his nature, yet they might be worth it, if they'd get him some sort of answer.

"Not my problem." The priest had succeeded in finding most of his clothes by now. Karril had the sinking feeling that he fully intended to depart as soon as he had finished dressing, which, from a certain point of view, was doubtlessly a good thing.

"Really? I thought you were supposed to be concerned for people's souls, what with you being a priest and all." Karril didn't like resorting to arguments that involved theories he didn't agree with, but, as their 'mutual acquaintance' had said once: what's useful should be used. (Karril was reasonably sure the Prophet's words had been more refined than that, yet their main-intent was clear enough.)

"Some souls are beyond saving." The priest stared at him directly, and Karril was surprised to read in the man's expression that it wasn't just the Hunter's soul that was considered to be hopelessly damned. It left him at a loss for words just long enough for the priest to grab his weapons and depart, leaving Karril to stare at a room that was bathing in sunlight, yet still as dark as before dawn.

"Humans." Karril shook his head, musing that he sorely needed a distraction, while painfully aware that even an orgy might not be enough to make him forget. Still, he supposed there'd be no harm in trying.

At least Iezu couldn't get hang-overs.

(Then again, they couldn't get truly, blissfully drunk either, so maybe that evened things out.)


End file.
